Of the Bronze and the Blood
by hunter-strain13
Summary: War was coming, the horses were ready and she was about to embark on an adventure she would never forget. Ashsautas Vrasubatlat.
1. At First Glance

**Disclaimer: I, most definitely, DO NOT own The Lord of the Rings or any character in that universe. That honor belongs to Tolkien. I merely write this for fun, not profit.**

**Ok! First LOTR fic, so please bear with me and be gentle with reviews. This is about a Haradrim woman and her experiences working under the evil forces in Middle Earth. There will be some romance (nothing too sweet, I promise) between her and an orc, so if you don't like that, GET OUT NOW! **

**First chapter is mainly back story for my OC. It might be a bit slow and I apologize for that.**

* * *

_Things you should know:_

_Filly- young female horse _

_Gelding-castrated male horse_

_Stallion- intact male horse_

_gait-a horse's stride (walk, trot/jog, canter/lope, gallop)_

_horse length-the length of a horse from nose to rump_

_colic- an ailment of the intestines. Very dangerous for a horse_

* * *

I- At First Glance

My people were people on the move. We never once stayed in one place for too long. Our camps were as mobile as we were, easily packed and just as easily pitched. We followed the herds wherever they went and moved between small oases. Travel made us hardy. Travel taught us the way of the horseman. We became well-versed in the craft and our horses became just as close as family to us. We rode them fast and far across the deserts. The rough trails wore down our feet, but never our hearts. Sturdy, we were, and strong and full of loyalty to one another. Such was the way we lived and died.

I had been told this story many times around the fires at night. The elders and priests told us of the strength of our people from the time we were young. They boasted of our skill as archers and of our prowess with horses, putting emphasis on these things as something that all Haradrim should know. I never questioned if all of us from Harad followed this or if it was just my clan. I merely soaked it all in and dreamed of the day when I would become everything that they spoke about.

I learned quickly how to ride a horse, as most other children in my camp did. We rode our first horses when we had seen five summers and received our own horse as a gift from the elders after seven. I was galloping around the camp the moment I was gifted my little filly. She was a spirited thing, with creamy mane and tail and pearly white coat. Her legs were lanky, but her hips were round and she could sprint faster than the wind. I spent many days astride her, learning to ride with and without a saddle and becoming adept at mounting from the ground. Then, there was the archery.

A bow was difficult to handle for me. The string always seemed to cut into my fingers and the arrow took me ages to set. The trainer always grew frustrated with me and he would kneel, showing me how the boys did it.

"See how they set the arrow with one finger while steadying the string with the others? Like that, Birinj." I would nod and try again. Eventually, the string and I no longer fought and my arms grew strong from the constant use. I could fire multiple arrows at once and I could take a melon off a stone from horseback. Most women did not go hunting with the men, though they learned archery as well. I was, however, taken a few hunts by my brother, Sufyan.

My mother and father had been blessed with the birth of their first child, my brother. Born five years before I, my parents rejoiced at the gift of a son. They named him for the tough stones that littered his place of birth. He was a healthy babe, with thick black curls atop his head and a cry as loud as thunder. He grew as most young men did in our camp. He was lean, with sinewy muscle made for lifting and hunting. He was a great rider and his first horse was very much like him: tall, bronze, and fiery.

When I was old enough to handle myself on a hunt, my brother suggested that I ride with his hunting party. I was thrilled and pleaded with my father. He was reluctant to let me leave, believing that I was too small to be of any help. I would only be a hindrance, he said. My mother, however, disagreed, thinking it would good for me.

"Shouldn't all of our people be able to hunt? Surely, we can spare a single woman from the looms and tanning racks to aid the hunters."

At that, my father caved in and gave me his blessing. I was elated. That next day, my brother woke me early. We saddled our horses, he with his stallion and myself with my little filly. We rode out with six others and we traveled into the wilds. Where the lush green of the site we camped in came to an end, the great expanse of dunes began, more like a sea of baked hot gold than wind swept sand.

We picked our way through the desert, our horses dropping their heads every so often to steady themselves in the unsure footing the sand created. One of the seekers, a young lad named Ubayy, spotted our quarry. It was decent sized herd of milk pale deer, snuffling at short prickly grass a few horse lengths from us. My brother hefted his spear in one hand and made a quietening motion with the other. I tightened my reins and, with a nod from Sufyan, we were off. The deer bolted at the sound of our approach and they slid down the dune and off across the flat. We chased them for long minutes, our horses foaming at the mouth and at the flanks. We threw our spears, a few missing, but one caught a velvety buck right between his shoulder blades. He fell, screaming.

The hunters cheered and jumped from their horses. The rush of the hunt left me light-headed. My brother, taller than me, lifted me from the ground and spun me, laughing. I joined in the raucous sound. One of the riders proclaimed who the hunter was who had slain the beast. Sufyan was the best hunter of us this time around. The men all clapped him on the back and we hauled back our kill.

Sufyan was welcomed back by my parents and the camp. He was hailed a mighty hunter. There was a feast. I sat in the back, feeling joy for my brother, but also envy. This marked the day that I would always follow in my brother's shadow.

Years passed, bringing with them many experiences and many woes. I lost my horse, no longer a filly, to a colic that took her in the night. I was devastated. Many of the riders expressed their sympathy. Sufyan stayed with me, sitting with me in silent companionship while I grieved. I felt like I had lost my purpose. Life was meaningless to a rider with no horse.

Then, I was presented the opportunity to find myself once more.

Another rider, young like me, was killed on a hunt a few weeks after. His gelding, a yearling, came back to the camp, his rider dragging behind with his foot caught in the stirrup. The rider was given a hunter's funeral and his horse was led to a corral and left alone. The beast seemed to sulk in the paddock, his head low to the ground and his coat losing its luster. He refused to eat for days and soon, the camp leaders decided they would just let him die.

I heard of the animal and went to him. I spent time with him, trying to coax him to eat anything from apples and tough bread crusts to watered down oatmeal. He would only step away from me and turn his head from the offered food. One day, however, he lifted his head when I approached the paddock. He whinnied at me, softly, and I took it as a positive sign. I spoke to him in low tones, petting his thin neck. He snuffled at my pocket with more energy than he had shown in a long while. I withdrew a small fruit and let him sniff at it. Then, to my joy, he took a bite, then another. After that, he began to eat regularly, even becoming a bit of a pig with his rations. The beast put weight back on and his red coat and black mane became silky once more.

The elders decided that it was Divine word for me to have the horse. There was a small ceremony at which they blessed the animal and myself. After the blessing, I rode him for the first time. Never before had I felt a gait so smooth, nor met a beast so willing. I believed that it was fate that I met this horse. I named him Sorx, for the blood red color of his fur.

I had purpose once more. I hunted with the men and grew into a strong young woman. My skills with the bow only got better, as did my riding skills. Sorx and I grew very close and I taught him to be summoned at a simple whistle. My mother was proud of me and encouraged me. My father told me often that he hadn't expected this of me, but that he was not unhappy.

My brother grew, as well, becoming the best hunter in our camp. They began to call him The Tiger after he slew a great orange tiger by himself. He wore its furs as a coat from then on. He was granted a new horse, a large black beast with a hot temper and solid back. He taught me the sword in his spare time, a weapon which felt foreign in my hands. We became as close as a brother and sister could be. He told me we would never be parted.

That all changed when the summons arrived.

* * *

**Back story doo-dad done! Sorry if it was hard to get through. I'm not too good at these kinds of things. I might edit it again in the future. This is actually the second time I tried to write this. I like this version better. :) Ok! Review, if you please. I would like to know what y'all think.**

**Next chapter should be better. It will be more in depth and the plot will be shown. **


	2. Summons

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. That is Tolkien's. I only own the Haradrim OC's that appear in this fic. **

**AN: I know very little about the Haradrim/Southron people, as is probably obvious. If anyone reading knows more than me, please message me! I would love to talk and learn more. For the names, I have been using Persian words because someone told me that those were the closest to the language Tolkien had in mind.**

**Anyways... on with this fic! Gee up!**

* * *

_Things you should know:_

_Colt-young male horse_

_Bay-all brown with black legs, muzzle, mane and tail (coat colour)_

_Chestnut- all copper (coat colour)_

_Blood bay- copper coat with black legs, face, mane and tail (coat colour) _

_flake- (hay) A piece of hay about 9 inches long and tall and about two inches thick_

_tack- term for saddle/bridle/blanket (riding equipment)_

_Names- Sorx (pronounced sor-ehz) and Birnij (pronounced burn-edge)_

* * *

II-Summons

The morning started like any other. I awoke with the sun, as did a few others. I rose, dressed in my typical red long sleeved tunic and trousers, both made of soft cloth, with black leather boots and gloves. I left my face uncovered, wanting to feel the breeze on my skin before it became too hot to bear. Tying my hair back with a knot, I slipped out of my tent, where my brother and parents still slept, and greeted the morning. The sky was a lovely shade of violet and there was not a cloud to be seen. After a moment of yawning and shaking myself fully awake, I made my way to a small enclosure nearby, stretching my arms as I walked.

The enclosure was a simple thing; just a few lengths of rope tied between several large leafed trees to make a circular pen. There were three tiers, one at human chest height, one at hip, and the last at mid-shin. I made the little thing myself to keep its occupant in. The tall horse stood at one end of the rope corral, munching on the long green grass that grew around his hooves. I whistled, one short quick sound followed by another, a little higher. At that, Sorx's ears perked up, as did his head, and he whinnied, trotting over to where I stood. I reached a hand up, palm facing up and held flat to let him sniff me before I pet his neck.

The gelding stepped back from me and tipped his head down to nuzzle my pocket. I laughed and pushed him away gently.

"No treats today, my sweet." The gelding snorted at me, almost pouting. I fingered one of the tiny braids in his mane before moving away and untying a large woven bag from where it hung on a nearby tree. It was filled with no small amount of soft green-blue grass. Little tufts of it poked out, tickling my wrists as I withdrew a flake and tossed onto the ground by my horse's hooves. "Eat up, now. We are going for a ride early today." I spoke softly. The blood bay snorted again, his muzzle already deep in his breakfast.

My stomach growled, signifying that I should soon be breaking my own fast. I moved back into the tent I shared with my family, leaving my mount to graze. My kept my steps quiet as I snuck into the low light of the tent. Kneeling on my own pallet, I reached under my pillow and withdrew a small tanned leather bag. I knew it to be filled with a few slices of bread, an apple, and a skin of water. I placed the strap over my shoulder and stepped back out into the air.

Once I approached Sorx, I noticed that he had finished eating and now stood anxiously near the edge of his makeshift paddock. His black ears were tilted forward and his nostrils flared as he saw me. A low whickering sound left him as he began pawing at the ground. The horse always grew antsy when it was time for a ride. I pulled my saddle and bridle from beside the tent, where my brother and parents' tack rested as well.

I set my saddle down near the paddock before bending low under the ropes and into the corral. Sorx backed from me, but still he bumped my hip with his nose, whickering again. I grabbed him by the halter and tied an arm's length of rope to it, just below his chin. Holding onto the lead, I untied the ropes from around the trees and let them fall to the ground. I led my steed from his rope paddock, holding him back as he pranced and tossed his head.

"Easy, you devil." I chuckled as he nearly reared next to me, front hooves leaving the ground and a shrill neigh trumpeting forth. After I managed to quiet him, I saddled him quickly, brushing out his coat until it shone before sliding his bridle over his ears and around his long face. He took the metal bit after a slight coaxing and soon he was cinched up and ready to ride. I led him by the other tents and horses, who snorted and called out as we passed, and watched as the sky lightened to a soft pastel blue.

At the edge of our camp, nestled in an oasis, the rocky desert stretched on as far as the eye could see. The slight morning breeze tossed the sand into a stirring dance and left them deposited on the craggy outcroppings that sat sparsely around the oasis. Other than those rocks, the desert was flat all around for close to four miles before it sloped up in a dune-like hill. My camp's placement took advantage of that hill, using it as a shelter from the occasional sandstorm and often placed guards at the top to afford them the ability to see for miles.

My horse lifted his head high and he chomped at his bit, a light foam already at the edges of his mouth. I placed my booted foot into the stirrup, swinging up with one smooth motion and sliding the supple leather reins taut in between my index finger and thumb. The energy that poured off of my horse was contagious and I felt my heart flutter in my chest. I settled my saddle and inhaled deeply before loosening the reins ever so slightly and tapping my heels to his side.

Before I could draw another breath, we were off like a bolt. There was no transition from walk, to trot to canter and then gallop. He simply threw himself into the gait and I grasped at his mane to balance myself. The sound of his hooves thundering on the ground was the first thing I registered when my senses returned to me. His black mane whipped back into my face and I could feel his muscles bunching under me. I leaned forward over his neck, glancing for a second at the ground under us as it rushed by. My horse seemed to fly as we tore across the desert, the movement so practiced for us both that it felt as if we were one creature. I laughed, bumping my boots to his flanks again to ask for more speed.

We galloped straight out, not slowing our pace, until we could see the sun over the dune. I reined in my beast on top of the hill, shaking as much as he was. I looked back to where I knew our camp was and saw the small speck of dark red and green that I knew was the outer most tents and bushes. Sorx heaved one great breath and tossed his head before going stock still under me. I refocused on him, patting his neck.

"Steady, dear heart. What has you spooked?"I asked him, speaking softly. I tried to turn his head towards our camp, pulling the reins against his mouth and neck, but his dark eyes and ears were fixed on a point in the distance. Peering in the same direction, I tried to make out what was so fascinating. I let my gaze settle along the line of the horizon for a long while, straining to see. Then, seemingly out of the roiling heat and jutting rock that came off the ground, some black figures became noticeable.

I stood in my stirrups, shielding my eyes from the sun and squinted. Sure enough, a small group was approaching us, their pace bringing them closer faster than I had expected. I knew not of a hunting party of ours that had been out, so I grew suddenly wary. Unsure of the group's intent, I waited a bit longer so I could make out the appearance of the encroaching persons. For a another minute or so, my horse and I waited, breathing quickly and tension building in our muscles. Once they were close enough, my breath hitched in my throat.

Riding my way, covering ground with a pace that told of urgency or purpose, was a pack of Orcs. Even at the distance they were at, I could not mistake them. Gray and black of skin and astride their monstrous wargs, they wore dark armour and large bows upon their backs. I knew instantly why Sorx was wary of their approach. I had been told of the reaction many animals had to the presence of those creatures of darkness. I wasn't sure where the orc pack was heading, but I didn't want to wait and find out that their destination was my camp. I tightened my leather reins once more and managed to wheel my horse around. I kicked him, hard, urging him into a run, full tilt, back towards camp.

Tears stung my eyes as the wind of our passing burned them. I threw a glance behind me, seeing that the Orcs were, in fact, heading the same direction as me. Worry was starting to turn my stomach sour and I swallowed hard. Once inside the camp, I removed my left foot from my stirrup and dismounted without halting my horse and flew up to the largest tent. It was settled in the very center of our camp and must have been as big as a cottage. I knelt quickly before the beige deerskin tent and called out in a strangled voice.

"Warlord! Please, I request an immediate audience with you. It is urgent!" Others in the camp, both women and men, had come closer at my approach and now stood around, looking on curiously and speaking in hushed tones to one another. The flap of the tent moved to the side suddenly and I dropped my gaze a few beats later.

The man who stood before me was the most intimidating I had seen in my lifetime. He was tall and layered in thick sinews of muscle. His eyes, a dark brown that bordered on black, were set deep in his skull and fiery with focus. His torso and arms were covered in swirling red and brown tattoos, images and markings that symbolized his place as a warlord and leader of our clan. I knew better than to speak again and waited for the large man to address me.

"Birinj." His voice rumbled forth like a distant storm. I held back from flinching. "What is it that has you so troubled?" There was only a slight hint of concern in his voice, one that only rode on the coattails of a more bored tone. Keeping my gaze on the ground, I swallowed and tried to steady my voice.

"My lord, forgive me. I do not wish to bother you so. Believe me when I say that I would only come to you with a matter of great importance."

"Speak, rider." The rumble rose in volume, almost becoming irritated.

"Orcs, sir." Was all I could manage.

"What?" The word was spoken with both confusion now.

"My apologies, great one. There are Orcs approaching the camp. At least, they appear to be heading here. They must be a mile or so away." At my words, the gathered people gasped and began looking to their leader, wide-eyed. The large man was quiet for a long moment and I let my eyes drift up to meet his. His eyes were clouded with an emotion I could not recognize and they snapped to mine. A sour taste found its way into my mouth as the man beckoned me.

"Come here. I would speak with you." As I stood, the large tattooed man turned to the camp and addressed them. "As for you all, please do not worry. No harm will befall us this day. The Divines re with us!" The surrounding group cheered quietly and drifted away to go about their morning business.

I followed behind the warlord and entered the tent warily. None but the camp leaders and elders were allowed inside and I felt honored to be asked there, but only briefly. The feeling was replaced by fear and anxiety the moment I saw the gathered company. The elders, both men and women, sat around a pile of coals that hissed and smoked. A few nodded at me as I entered, but most looked on with no more emotion than rocks. The warlord bowed before them before taking a seat at the back of the tent. I stood near to the entrance, nervous and trembling.

The assembled people turned to the warlord before a single person spoke.

"What is the meaning of this, Rishod?" The speaker, a gray haired man with golden beads braided into his beard, had a voice like sand being brushed off of paper. The warlord, Rishod, turned to him and waved a hand as if to quiet him.

"I know this is unorthodox and I do ask for forgiveness. This woman, Birinj, daughter of Farasi and Schara, has come to me with grave news." His eyes turned to me and I glanced downwards. "Young one, tell the elders what you told me."

"Yes, my lord." I spoke loud enough to be heard, but my voice was still timid. I knelt on both knees and folded my hands in front of me before continuing.

"I was riding out from the camp, just as the sun was rising. Out on the dunes, I spotted a pack of Orcs riding large wargs heading this direction. I thought not to engage them and rode back here with all haste." The elders were silent and looked thoughtful. Rishod waited a long moment before speaking again. When he did, his voice was soft and his tone grave.

"Now you hear it for yourselves. Orcs, servants of powers to the north, are coming. They are upon us now and we all know the reason they are here." Rishod paused, frowning deeply. The elders were all silent for a long time. I waited, the quiet that filled the tents threatening to pop my ears. Then, another elder stood, this time a woman with ink black hair and gold tattoos on her hands and arms. She spoke, directing her attention to all in attendance.

"The war in the north...a battle between Men and forces of darkness." I stiffened at her words. "Even here in our lands, we hear of such things."

"It is true." Another elder chimed in. "News of these ill tides are not unknown to our ears. Now, the present decision we need to make, a decision that affects all of us, is whether or not to answer the summons and with what answer we do so with." At that point, I had heard more than I believed was ever intended for my ears. I had heard rumors of a battle in the north, but I did not think it my people were involved.

The discussion between the elders continued for quite some time. Opinions were given and arguments validated back and forth. The warlord sat quietly, listening and seemingly deep in thought. I merely sat back on my haunches, trying to soak in what was being said.

"The summons calls for all our able bodied warriors! We cannot risk out own safety of the promise of land and water. A promise given by a man of pure evil, if you can call him a man. He has no reason to keep his word!"

"If we do not give him what he asks for, what makes you think he will not destroy us for disobedience. And our people will continue to suffer for lack of the necessities he promises. Warriors are meant to fight for their people and their sacrifice, if it came to that, would not be in vain."

"Wait!" I couldn't keep my emotions in check and blurted out the word before I could stop myself. All the eyes in the tent turned to me, burning into me with a mix of anger, disbelief and curiosity. Rishod sat higher, dark eyes nearly on fire with his own feelings. I lowered my forehead to the ground, apologizing silently for my outburst before sitting straight once more and addressing the group.

"What I mean, my lords and ladies, is that I am confused as to why this discussion is being entertained. Why are you even considering sending out our only protection to aid in a war that is not our problem and none of our business? We do not need the aid of a foreign lord to sustain our people."

I was cut off by a silencing hand from Rishod. The large man took a long moment, staring hard at me, before he spoke.

"I received his first summons close to a year ago. He called us to war. It might as well be a death warrant, but it is a chance that I am willing to take in order to protect our people. The other warlords have all answered the call. Now, we are going to do the same."

"No!" I screamed, standing quickly. "You can't think that this will end well!"

"Birinj, that is enough."

"No! I will not back down from this. This is wrong! You are sending them to their deaths! And for what?"

"Be still, damn you!" The voice, I realized then, came from behind me. I half-turned to see my brother enter the tent, the large tiger cloak resting over his shoulders. Feeling sheepish, I bowed at the waist and backed towards the tent's opening. Sufyan knelt and touched his own forehead to the floor in front of the elders. His did not lift himself from this position even as he spoke.

"Please forgive my sister, Birinj. She is upset and afraid and unsure of what she is saying." Indignantly, I almost kicked him, but remembered my place and remained still. The elders nodded in response to his request and Rishod asked him to rise. Once my brother stood before the gathered council, the warlord dismissed me with a wave of his hand. I turned on my heel, angry and worried.

Storming out of the tent, I emerged back into the light of the day. I noticed that the people had gathered once more outside the tent but this time, their frightened and fretful faces were turned towards the outer edge of camp. Lifting my own eyes to follow their gazes, I froze.

Riding at an almost leisurely pace through our camp, frightening and impressive, was the Orc pack. At this close range, I couldn't stop myself from taking in their appearances. The leader, or at least I assumed his was from his posture and decorated armor, had flesh that was a sickly pale green and was mottled with black scars that crossed over his nose and left eye. His hair, thin and red, swayed with the movement of his warg. His pack were all similar to him, skin tones ranging from almost silver to dark brown. Some had scars or pock marks and still others had rings in their noses and brows, but all were ugly and terrifying to see. The wargs they rode were nearly as hard to look upon as their masters. Massive and brown, the wolf-like beasts had short muzzles with lips pulled back to show their yellowed fangs. The fur was mangy and greasy looking in the light and their stench alone made one's eyes water.

My knees almost gave under me as fear took hold. The riders pulled their wolves to a halt only two horse lengths from me. I choked back vomit as the smell hit me and I nearly gasped, but forced myself to remain as stoic as possible. The lead Orc, noting my discomfort at their presence, grinned toothily at me. His teeth, closer to the canines of a mongrel dog, were uneven and razor sharp. Then, much to my horror, he spoke to me.

"We are here to call upon the Southrons for our Lord. We wish to speak with your master, wench." His voice curdled my blood as he spoke a perverted sounding Common. My knowledge of the language was limited, so I merely bowed, losing my tongue and ability to move, out of terror. Just then, my rescue came at my back in the form of my brother and Rishod. They left the tent together and now both stood behind me. Sufyan land a hand on my back and his eyes were soft as he looked at me.

"Are you well, sister?" He asked me, concern in his tone. I nodded, not yet finding my voice. "Go to our tent. We are going to handle this. Do not come out until I say so." The last part was spoken in a whisper as our warlord leader began to speak to the Orcs in Common. I caught the words 'welcome' and 'enter' as he spoke. Rishod outstretched his hands to the warg riders and they dismounted their great beasts, the movement as fluid as any of my people would have exhibited with their own mounts.

I began walking away from the elders' tent, trying to appear as small as possible by ducking my head and averting my eyes. As I passed the first Orc, who stood hunched over from the waist, I heard his growling laughter which made me walk just a bit faster. The large mounts barely paid me any mind as I walked by them, some flicking ears or sniffing at me, and I ventured a glance at them. I had never seen anything so strange and so intimidating in my life. Being so close, I now noticed the brindled pattern and small spots that the wargs' fur carried under the grime. I imagined that their fur would be almost pretty if cared for properly. I began to drop my gaze back to the ground, but it was caught by the eyes of one of the riders.

And, oh, was he fearsome to gaze upon! His face was sharp and severe. A single white scar ran from his cheekbone to his throat and it was a stark contrast to his skin, which was a mottled gray like storm clouds. He sported a pair of silver earrings in his right ear that jingled when he turned to meet my gaze and one ring in the bridge of his nose , directly between his dark red eyes. His hair, shoulder length and black as pitch, was tied back at the base of his neck. His jagged armor, leather gloves, and boots were the same shade as his locks and crude of make. An oddly curved sword sat on his hip and a bow rested on his back. He stood as the rest of the Orcs did, slightly hunched over as if curling in on himself from the waist.

I found I couldn't look away from him. His gaze was not openly aggressive, from what I could tell. It was more curious or wary, much like my own. He did not growl or taunt me as I expected him to do. He merely left a hand on his warg's shoulder and kept his crimson eyes locked on mine until he and the other Orcs were led into the tent. I realized, once he walked away, that I had ceased movement. Resuming my pace, I hurried to my parents' tent, back at the edge of the camp. Once there, I noticed Sorx standing near his enclosure, reins tied haphazardly to a tree. At my footsteps, my horse turned his head and whinnied quietly. I patted his rump with one hand to reassure him before moving to enter my tent. Just before I could do so, the flap was thrown aside and I started.

My mother grabbed me in an embrace so fierce that I nearly fell under her. Almost immediately I registered her crying, her thin shoulders shaking. Wrapping my own arms around her, I squeezed her back and asked her why she wept. Through her tears, she explained.

"I was worried, my child! I heard someone saying that you left the camp, then that you rode back as if your hair was on fire. Something about goblins or what have you. Divines, I was so afraid for you!" I smiled sadly at her and tried to comfort her. I steered her back to our tent and we both slid inside. Once there, my eyes adjusted and found my father, sitting with legs crossed on his pallet. He smiled at me but the emotion didn't reach his eyes. I settled beside my mother, holding her hand in between both of my own.

A moment ticked by, then another, no words uttered by any of us. I sat in silence with my parents, thoughts racing, for what must have been hours. For a moment, I considered going and finding my brother. I was leaning towards the tent opening when I was stopped by the presence of someone entering.

It was Sufyan. My older sibling looked solemn and he cast a glance at my father, one that was full of meaning. Our mother, worry creasing her forehead, frowned and laid a hand on Sufyan's arm.

"Son, what is it? What has happened?" Her voice was wavering slightly. Our father leaned in, as well, to listen to what my brother had to say.

"Mother, father." Sufyan spoke softly, "the leaders have received a summons."

"A summons? For what, Sufyan?" My mother asked, sounding confused. I glanced at my father and his face told that he knew of what my brother spoke. Sufyan continued, now grasping our mother's hand in his own.

"From the north, mother. It's a summons...for war."

"What?" My mother sounded scared now. At this point, I was becoming angry again. I couldn't believe that the leaders had actually agreed to send our warriors to aid the northerners. As I fumed, Suyfan explained what had been discussed among the elders. My parents simultaneously gasped when he mentioned the Orcs now currently present in our camp.

"The elders are letting the Orcs stay here? Why did they let them into the camp?" My mother began questioning, her fear turning to frustration. Her husband stayed silent, staring hard at his knees. I decided to answer her before Sufyan had a chance to respond.

"They didn't know they were coming. They hadn't a clue until I rode back and told them. That's why I was riding into camp the way that I did. I spotted them first."

"You did, Birnij? My child, they could have killed you!"

"I know..." I trailed off, feeling another wave of fright take over. Sufyan tossed me a sympathetic look before speaking to our father.

"The warlord is rallying all warriors to him. All able men are to pack themselves and be ready by the next full moon. For protection, we are leaving the youths and elder hunters so you will not be left alone."

"Is father going...?" I wondered out loud. Sufyan shook his head, his long braid sliding over his shoulder.

"No. Actually, he is to act as one of the seconds' while the warlord is away." Our mother hugged herself at that.

"Your father...? Leading the camp?"

"Yes." Our father replied. At the answer, our mother turned to him sharply. An incredulous look passed over her tired features, but she did not question it. Instead, she turned back to us.

"So, Sufyan. This means...that you are leaving?" I was worried she was going to ask. I too feared the answer.

"I am. Actually, I'm to lead a vanguard unit ahead of the others to establish our place before we head into the war. My force will number twenty and five, plus myself. We leave within the day."

* * *

**And, that's the end of the first real chapter. Hope that ending didn't suck too badly. I rewrote this a few times and I still feel like it isn't too great. Well, let me know what you think! If...anyone is still...reading. *clears throat* So, yeah. See y'all next time. **


	3. Home Behind and Road Ahead

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or the characters. Professor Tolkein does. I claim only my OCs.**

**Hope that cliffy wasn't too terrible! Forgive me, my chickadees! Here is the next installment of this lame story. For those who are still reading, arigatou! It means a lot that you are still willing. I promised shout outs and here they are:**

**Justified Assassin, cooltreeko, IAmAFantasyFan, and Borys68- I have fans! You all make me so happy! Thank you thank you thank you!**

**A lovely reader asked me what breeds of horses I was using for this story so I am here to clear that up. Birnij's first horse is a gray Egyptian Arabian, while her second horse, Sorx, is a blood bay Thoroughbred. Sufyan's horse is a black Frisian (kind of like a Clydesdale but lighter in weight and bone structure). **

**And in this story, wargs are of equal height to the Arabian horse, so a little over 5 feet at the top of the shoulder. Hope this helps! Onward!**

* * *

_Things you need to know:_

_Palomino- blonde/golden fur all over with same or lighter mane and tail (coat colour)_

_Blue Roan- dark gray almost blue fur all over with black muzzle, legs, mane and tail (coat colour)_

_pastern- a horse's ankle_

* * *

II- Home Behind and Road Ahead

"We leave within the day."

I froze as the words left his mouth. Within the day? Never having been separated from my brother for an extended period of time, I hadn't a clue how I was to handle this development. We had always been at each others backs, never needing to look far for help. The elders often said that we were much like the Divine opposites, at odds but in balance at all times. I trusted Sufyan more than I trusted my own parents, always going to him with problems or emotions I couldn't handle alone.

The news that he was leaving to fight in a war that would likely claim his life staggered me. Not only that, but he was leaving before I even had a chance to stop him. Scenarios began to play in my head of all the things wrong with what was going on. Scenes of death flashed before my eyes, my brother's and my own included. Fire, drought, starvation, raids; things that he would not be here to help me defend against. I knew that I was not strong enough to save my people alone and, with that knowledge, I discovered that I also had not the strength to watch my brother leave.

I stood abruptly and stormed out of the tent, fury and sadness bringing stinging tears to my eyes. I shut them quickly, trying to keep a hold on my emotions. I marched over to where my horse still stood and held out a hand to him, palm up. He dragged his lips over my fingers, searching for snacks and I leaned against him, forehead resting on his broad shoulder. I inhaled deeply, smelling his familiar scent of dust and grass and losing myself in it. 'This can't be happening.' I thought to myself. I knew the land would not know peace my entire lifetime. That was a fool's wishful thinking. The thought of losing my brother, however, was too much to bear. As if sensing my dismay, Sorx stood still as I held myself against him, not moving or bothering me for treats. He merely breathed quietly and occasionally whickered in contentment. I silently thanked him for that and let the tears come, opening my eyes to watch them slide over his fur.

As my mind strayed, I missed the figure approaching me slowly from behind. I nearly yelped as a hand clapped down firmly on my shoulder. Turning quickly, I batted the offending appendage away before I recognized the face of my brother.

"Easy, little one. It is only me." He said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. I sighed and turned back to Sorx, petting his glistening copper coat and wiping the tear tracks away.

"What is it, Sufyan? I am in no mood to speak of this war."

"And yet we must, sister. I know you are angered by the elder's decision."

"You should be upset, too." I snorted. "They are sending you to your death. It isn't fair, nor is it right. I cannot simply stand by and watch you ride off to a war that is not our own."

"Birnij, you must understand. There is nothing that rage and despair can do for it now. The Warlord has spoken. You must respect this and carry on in my stead."

I felt the tears pricking my eyes again and I wiped the back of my hand over my face in an attempt to banish them. Sufyan stepped to my side and laid a gentle hand on my short wavy black hair, petting it slowly.

"You must stay and take care of everyone for me. Mother, father, and the rest. Can you do that for me, Birn?" The question lingered in the air between us. I found I couldn't meet his gaze so I settled for staring at my boots. Then, I found my voice again. And I answered.

"No." My brother, to his credit, did not flinch at the suddenness of my answer. He simply stared at me, eyes betraying nothing.

"No? And why is that?" His voice was low now. I swallowed before responding.

"I cannot...because I am going with you."

My brother laughed at that, a clipped sound with no humor behind it. He stepped back from me and shook his head.

"Don't be absurd, Birn. I am speaking in all seriousness."

"So am I."

"You cannot join me on this journey."

"I can and I will. You will not stop me, brother." Now, my sibling's face became angry. His brows furrowed and his mouth turned downward.

"Birnij, you will die."

"So will you! Sufyan, I can handle myself. You know this. I have hunted with you for years and you, personally, have trained me with the sword."

"This is not enough..."

"Please don't!" I nearly screamed. "Don't do this to me! How dare you try and keep me from your side!" This made my brother quiet momentarily. He looked at me thoughtfully for a long while. "We have never been parted. Let's not start now. I can help you there, as I have here. If you don't allow me to come, I will follow you regardless. I will ride behind you, out of your sight. Either way, brother, I am riding out when you do."

I bit my lip, the tears flowing freely now. I hadn't realized how drained I felt. Crying like a petulant child in front of my brother made me feel vulnerable and silly. It was almost embarrassing. Sufyan watched me, his fists and jaw clenched tight. His eyes were intense and I almost balked and looked away, but I swallowed and held his gaze. The two of us stood without talking, tension building between us. For a moment, I was preparing to argue once more, but then a resigned sigh and sag of shoulder from Sufyan made me pause.

"Pack your things." He said, the words spoken as if he regretted them the moment they left his mouth. I was elated, but I kept myself in check, nodding soberly.

"Thank you, brother."

"Do not thank me. Pack only your weapons and water. I will bring an extra pallet and food for you, so no one will suspect you of leaving. Meet me in the grove. I will give you until the sun touches the Great Dune." He said, pointing to the large hill that protected our camp. Nodding in understanding, I turned to leave, but my brother grabbed me once more. I looked at him, curious.

"What...?"

"Cover your face and hair, as well. Do not let anyone know of your gender. It will only cause you trouble."

"I understand."

I did as instructed, finding and sliding my two small daggers into a pouch. I looked at them, at the swirling design etched into the blades. A wolf pack ran across one while a single stag galloped on the other. The animals on the blades represented life and death, the predator and prey and they had been given to me after my first kill on a hunt. In with the blades went my flint and I clipped my mahogany longbow around my shoulder. My quiver was filled with black arrows with crimson fletching and my sword was tied onto Sorx's saddle, just behind the saddle horn so I could reach it with ease.

Covering my face up to my nose with my black mask and drawing a dark red hood over my hair, I untied Sorx from the tree and turned him about to face the thick of the camp. We walked towards the oasis' little pond, at the center of the tents, to fill my water skin and let my horse have one last drink before rode. With one hand on the reins, I steered him around the little fires and tanning racks that dotted the way to the water.

I noticed that some men were saddling their horses by their tents, young boys and girls aiding them though tears streaked their faces. Children sending off their fathers, I knew, and I grew sad at the sight. I wondered, vaguely, if the children knew that their parents would likely not return. I had to look away to steel my nerves and banish such thoughts.

The dwindling density of tents now meant that we were nearing the pond and I quickened my pace as we turned a corner to face the water. As soon as we did so, Sorx snorted and halted his steps, hooves planted firmly in the dirt. I turned to him as he leaned his weight away from me and I tried to lead him forward once more. I could see the whites of his eyes and his ears were flattened against his skull. He reared up, pawing at the air as if driven mad and I nearly swore as people turned to look at the commotion.

In an attempt to quiet him, I spoke softly and turned him in a small circle to return his focus to me. After a long moment, his trembling lessened and he placed his large head against my stomach, a sign that he trusted me. I stared at the spring, trying to find the source of his unrest and didn't have to look for long until I found it.

The Orcs were there, standing beside their wretched mounts as the great beasts lapped at the water. The beasts black tongues splashed and they growled at one another if they drifted too close. The riders talked quietly in a language that hurt my ears to hear, bending close and eyes shifting about. I shook myself, took a breath, and patted Sorx on his great neck.

"Easy there, my boy. We can share the water, don't worry. They won't hurt you." As I talked, I began walking to the water's edge once more. I petted Sorx's neck slowly, encouragingly, as he followed steadily after me. At our movement, two of the Orcs looked up. One, a brown skinned fellow with silver eyes, drew back his lips from his fangs, snarling silently. His hand drifted down to the hilt of his crooked blade. Fear gripped my chest, but I pretended otherwise and continued walking. The other Orc watched my movement longer than his companion; I felt his gaze on me though I did not meet his eyes. Once we reached the shore's edge, my horse seemed to forget his fear of the creatures and their riders and he dipped his head to sip noisily.

I stood near to my horse and watched him drink, but soon I grew restless, knowing that the Orcs were so near and that at least one continued to watch me. As casually as I could manage, I let my own eyes wander over to the pack not 4 lengths from me. I stared at the closest warg, a gargantuan thing with black fur going silver at the muzzle. It had large eyes and paws that must have been almost the size of my head. It looked so similar to a wolf that I almost forgot that it was a ruined creature host to a terrible fate.

While I was fascinated by the large beast, I became more interested in its rider, the one staring at me. Just as I was about to make eye contact with the Orc, Sorx finished slurping and lifted his head to rub against my side. The force of his rubbing made me lose my balance a bit and I stumbled, pushing back against him. The blood bay shook his mane and stamped his hoof on the ground, feeling playful. I smiled under my mask and knelt to fill my water skin, ignoring his excitement for the moment. I stared at my reflection, locking eyes with my own green orbs in the water. An idea came to me then and I acted on it with only a slight hesitation.

Without moving my head, I used the reflective surface to observe the Orc would stood closest to me, who had finally looked away. I was surprised to see that it was the gray skinned rider with the piercings from before. His warg ceased drinking for a moment as his gloved hand ran through its short jagged mane and it stepped a bit closer to him, emitting an almost purr. I watched the exchange, almost in awe of how close the two seemed. It's as if the Orc cares for the beast.' I thought to myself. Then, the surface of the water rippled as the warg began lapping at it once more.

Standing and taking my reins in my hand once more, I turned my horse around with one hand over his neck and walked briskly to a large copse of trees and brush at the far corner of camp. No tent nor guard post was set near there and I often went there to sort out my thoughts late at night. Suyfan was standing there, tightening the leather saddle cinch that ran under his horse's girth. His large mount, Vidatu, was solid black and built like a mountain. The horse had long hair just above his pastern that flowed down over his hooves and a section of hair on his tail was braided thickly and it ran all the way down the length of it.

The large war horse stretched out his neck to greet Sorx and my horse did the same, wiggling his lips at him. As the two snorted and sniffed, I tugged on my brother's sleeve, just at the elbow. My brother turned to me, his face stony, but eyes curious.

"What is it?" He asked, tone almost uncaring.

"Are you...angry with me, brother?" My voice tapered off at the end of the question. I was worried what he would say. I didn't want the decision to force us apart. Sufyan stared at me, hands wrapping around his horse's reins. I began to pet Sorx, fingers swirling in his mane out of nervousness. When he responded, Sufyan sounded tired.

"No, little sister. I am not angry with you. I could not be. You are brave, if foolish, for this decision, but I cannot deny that I appreciate your presence at my side. I will do all in my power to keep you safe, Birn, but in the end you will need to rely on your own strength and tenacity to survive. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"No, really, Birnij."

"_Yes, _Sufyan. I understand. I did not make this choice on a whim." That seemed to satisfy him and he ruffled my hair affectionately. He kissed my brow and swung his reins around a tree, tying them in place with a simple loop. He handed me a pallet and satchel of food, which I placed on the back of my saddle, trying it in place. Sufyan turned to me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Birn, I need to speak with the Warlord once more before I...we leave." He corrected almost lamely. "Take care of Vidatu for a bit and I will return so we can leave together."

I mock bowed at my brother and he chuckled before turning on his heel and leaving the grove. I watched him leave, feeling almost as if things were set right between us. Once I was alone, I returned to the task at hand: preparing to ride to war. I knew that I would need to be fit, as did my horse, if we were going to be any help to my brother. Sorx and Vidatu watched me with their glossy eyes as I knelt and rummaged in my pack. I withdrew a rag and made it wet slightly with my water skin, making sure it was damp but not dripping. Approaching my horse, I bent to pet down his leg and chest. I felt the warmth that already poured off of him and I wiped them down with the rag, not wanting him to cramp up as he cooled from our vigorous, and eventful, morning ride. I did this for the better part of an hour, then I made him bend each of his legs up to his torso, stretching his muscles to keep him limber and myself busy.

Another long while passed and I busied myself with brushing my horse's mane and tail and picking his hooves with a dull blade. I even unsaddled him and brushed out the sweat that already collected under the saddle and blanket. Once I had run out of things to do, I gazed up at the dune, noticing that the sun was dropping near to the sand. Almost at the same moment, there came a rustling in the bushes as my brother strode back through the grove. He took one look at me, nodded in silent acknowledgement and moved to untie Vidatu. The large beast snorted as he did so, stamping his feet and swishing his tail.

A quiet smile tugged at Sufyan's lips at Vidatu's antics and he stepped up into the saddle after calming the horse down enough to do so. The movement was swift and fluid and he took up his reins in an instant. Wheeling the great black horse around, he set off at a trot towards the edge of camp. I mounted and rode behind him, silent, praying that I wasn't as much a fool as I was beginning to feel I was. We trotted our horses around the tents and were soon joined by another rider. His palomino steed whinnied shrilly as he moved in beside us.

"Great Tiger!" The rider called, addressing Sufyan. My brother turned his head to regard him, but did not slow his horse.

"Aye?"

"I will follow you to the ends of the earth! I am proud to ride beside you!" His words made my sibling smile sadly and he nodded to him. Other riders joined us then, all dressed in red and blacks and within a moment we numbered two dozen at least. There were large muscular horses all around us; bays, blacks, chestnuts, and the occasional dapple gray all as fresh and ready as their riders. A few horses were laden with larger packs than the others, and pots clanked on the backs of their saddles. I knew that these were packs full of food for the whole group; breads, cheeses, wine, and dried meats were the most likely to be in there.

I kept Sorx behind my brother's horse, trying to keep from making eye contact with anyone near me. I feared being discovered and I hunched in my saddle so as not to be noticed. Sufyan led us the very edge of the oasis, where the sand was starting to encroach over onto the greenery the camp was settled on.

Our group halted, all horses snorting and champing at their bits. I knew that they were feeling the same anticipation and fear that we all felt. The jostling of leather and metal could be heard but all else was silent. Even the camp itself seemed to have gone still. I stared at my brother's back for a long moment, waiting for him to do something. The man merely sat astride Vidatu and was still for a long while. Then, he turned to us, using the reins to guide his horse in a tight circle. The black beast curled his neck as he turned and he began tossing his head as my brother spoke.

"Comrades! Warriors! Men of Harad!" Sufyan began, his voice carrying to the very back of our unit. "We ride, today, and I know not whether there will be a ride home."

All of the riders remained quiet, some dropping their gazes and some turning their heads to look back at the camp. My brother continued, spinning Vidatu in a circle but not losing his fierce stare.

"I know that many of you, if not all of you, are leaving behind the ones you love. Your wives, your children, your families...I too am riding away from the people I care most about. It is hard, I understand. No one said this would be an easy task. And indeed it will not be. We ride to war, my friends. We ride to battle, to blood and death. There will be agony and sorrow and fear as you have never felt. But, know this. We ride, also, for the sake of those we leave behind. We ride so that we may someday make life peaceful for our families. Food, water, shelter, and a life where they are not fighting for every meal or falling asleep wondering if they will be attacked. We ride to war, but it is a glorious war! You are stalwart and brave, every last one of you and I am honored to lead you."

At this, the men had begun grinning in a grim manner and one or two horses trumpeted their excitement. Sufyan tightened his reins as his own mount pawed the ground and half stood from the ground. I felt my stomach churn and a trickle of sweat slid down my neck. I knew it was not caused from the heat and I didn't dare wipe it away. My brother now looked straight at me, his eyes burning with emotion. My heart swelled with empathetic feeling and I almost lifted my voice to cheer.

Before I could do so, a horse to my left set up a great racket, bellowing and stirring up dust with its apparent panic. All the horses picked up on its frenzy and began to shift around. They bumped into each other and set their ears against their heads, eyes rolling wildly. I knew almost instantly what set the horses off and I retained my hold on Sorx as I looked for the source of the beasts' discomfort.

The Orc pack approached from our left, the wargs snarling and snapping at one another. Though the aggression wasn't directed at us, our horses were still uneasy at the gaping jaws and chest-deep growling. The Orcs glared at us in something not akin to contempt, but closer to mirth as they looked on. I fought against my horse as he tried to bolt and I found myself looking to Sufyan for guidance.

My brother sat astride his steed, face not revealing anything and hands remaining firm and in control of Vidatu. His dark eyes watched the Orcs and he even went so far as to incline his head to the leader. The green skinned rider grated out a chuckle and thumped his warg's neck with a hand. The pack halted not too far from our group and it did nothing to settle the horses' nerves. Most of them had quieted now, but they still eyed the wolves warily.

"We ride at your word." Sufyan intoned, speaking to the heavily decorated Orc who licked his lips in return.

"Then ride, _horse master_." The title was spoken as a joke, a jest on Sufyan's behalf. I bristled, but held my tongue. "We do not rest until we reach the water. Be sure to keep up on those ugly beasts." At this, the pack laughed, though it was closer to a choking gargle. The Orcs turned and, jamming their booted heels into the flanks of the wargs, tore off into the desert. Their pace covered ground quickly and our group had to immediately race after them so as not to lose them.

Our horses thundered after the wargs in a charge that would do any commander proud. I bent over Sorx's neck only slightly, feeling excited and nervous all at once. I looked to my left to take in the other riders. The large chesnut directly to my side sported a long white stripe down its face and golden beads were strung on a length of hair behind its ear. It was already sweating slightly, more from the thrill and being held back than actual exertion. Its muscles were intensely defined as it galloped and the rider kept it on a tight rein as it tried to overtake the horse in front of it. To my right, a pair of almost identical blue roan horses ran neck and neck beside me. The riders' faces were uncovered and both of them seemed to grin from ear to ear as they rode. I heard the rhythmic beat of the hooves under us and nearly lost myself in the ecstasy of the fellowship I felt with the animals and men around me.

As we rode, I began to notice the odd motion of the desert. Even at this time of day, the sand was pouring off dancing waves of heat that made the ground ahead of us seem to move and flow as if underwater. If one wasn't careful, it could lead one off the path and never find one's way back. The Orcs seemed to know the way better than I thought outsiders could and steered their wolves up the dunes and around the jagged rocks. They rode hunched over the necks of the beasts and I noticed then that there were no reins to guide them with. I wondered how they steered creatures so large and ferocious without some kind of physical connection. I let the thought slip to the back of my mind and decided on a more pressing matter.

I tapped my heel to Sorx's side lightly, for he did not need to be asked twice for more speed. He happily obliged, dropping his head to throw his weight forward. I moved up the group, weaving in and out, until I reached my brother's right side. Vidatu's long strides were clearing ground easily and his ears were pricked forward as he held his head high. I leaned forward and asked over the din of our charge how far the water was. Sufyan only spared me a brief glance before holding up his fingers at me. 'Three days', he mouthed. I nodded and dropped back into my saddle. I patted my horse's neck before speaking into his ear.

"This is going to be a long ride."

* * *

**There you go, chickadees. Hope you liked it! Review and let me know. Also, yes this story is going to have a lot of horses and horse talk in it. I train and ride horses so this kind of story comes naturally to me and I jump at the chance to write it. Also, I don't have internet so updating will be sporadic. Sorry about that! Anyways, see you next time!**


	4. Hard of Heart, Sound of Soul

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. Prof. Tolkien does and I am honoured to write about his characters and places (for fun, of course). **

**Welcome back, chickadees! I only have one little thing to say; yes, they are taking the Harad Road. Alright, enough said. Gee up!**

* * *

_Things you need to know_

_founder (verb.)- when a horse stumbles/falls. Can result in injury to hoof_

_canter- a 'medium' pace for a horse, faster than a jog/trot_

_'give the head'- meaning to loosen the reins to let the horse use its head to gain momentum_

_crohop- a hop or small lifting of the back legs of a horse. Like a small buck_

* * *

III- Hard of Heart, Sound of Soul

We rode at a fast pace for a long while and the moon rose high in the sky as we traveled. Our group slowed up to a canter rarely and only for a short time before returning to a gallop. By now, the horses were sweating at the flank and neck, regardless of the drop in temperature. The sand was loose and unforgiving and one or two horses had their hooves caught and nearly foundered, but their riders held them fast. Our group was standing strong and none of us had lost our determination despite the journey ahead nor the lingering thoughts of home. I believed that a large part of that was the way my brother sat ahead of us, face lined with the weight of his purpose, but tall and proud in his posture. The constant hard riding had not bowed his back an inch. Sufyan looked like a king, sporting his long tiger skin cloak and I was honored to be riding with him and even more so to know that he was my kin.

More than once in the ride, I caught myself stealing glances at the Orc pack that rode a good ten lengths ahead of us. The wargs seemed tireless as they loped on and their riders were silent as they rode. One of the beasts, long legged and brown, howled at the sky as the moon glowed directly above us, which startled our horses. He was almost instantly reprimanded by a slap on the ear from his Orc master and he yelped for a second before falling quiet. I scowled at that but found I did not feel any real sympathy. The final time I looked, my eyes found the back of the Orc on the black warg. I could see his piercings flashing in the low moonlight as his head twisted this way and that, scanning the desert. I looked away, but my mind remained on him for a long while.

As the sun began to rise on the horizon we came into a long canyon. The rocky cliffs that rose up on either side of us were menacing and jagged, but the Orcs did not slow their pace. I myself was growing tired in the saddle, but I tapped my heels to Sorx once more. The canyon path wove back and forth like the trail of a snake and the sand gave way to hard stone after a short time. The metallic clacking of the horses' shoes echoed around the canyon and it caused the Orc leader to glare back at us. I could tell his sharp gaze was unamused even from the distance I was at. He turned to the rider on his right, the brown skinned one, and spoke loud enough for us to hear.

"Kal zanalt. Marr dyri*. We cannot be heard." At his words, the wargs began to slow down, their riders leaning up and away from their necks to sit upright. Instead of loping their full bodied stride, the large wolves now simply walked, padding softly on the rock. My brother hauled back on the reins and brought Vidatu to a walk, as well. The group copied the action, most of us seemingly grateful to rest their horses and ourselves. At the slower pace, our horses' steps were much quieter and that seemed to satisfy the Orc. He turned back to face forward and remained silent.

We rode for what felt like another hour or so, weaving through the canyon like a line of heavily armed ants. I saw birds gliding down to the small cliff sides and noticed the nests that lined it. One bird, long of wingspan, was gliding around directly above us. I watched it, finding its effortless movement beautiful and peaceful to watch. For a long while, my eyes didn't leave its form. Then suddenly, it jerked and fell with a screech. The screaming bird plummeted to the ground, a large arrow in its wing and crashed down just beside the Orc pack. I stared, incredulous, at the creature who shot it down. It was a small Orc, astride a mud coloured warg, and he leaned over to pick up the still living bird. He looked back at me, a sick grin spreading his lips, before he snapped its neck with loud crunch. I jumped in the saddle and gasped. The Orc laughed and bit into the bird's wing, but not before he spoke to me.

"Nar thos*." He snarled, his voice fierce and his words obviously spoken in cruel jest. I glanced down and kept my gaze on Sorx's mane, trying not to vomit. I was appalled, but I knew I should have expected it from such a monster. Off to my left, the rider astride the big chestnut reined his horse closer to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder, causing me to start. He laughed in a good nature and leaned away.

"Don't worry, boy. They mean to frighten us. They are evil creatures and don't ever forget that but as long as Sufyan the Tiger is leading us, you have nothing to worry about." I looked to him and nodded once. That made him smile and he held out a hand.

"I'm Javeed." He said, waiting. I grasped his wrist with my hand hesitantly and he wrapped his own hand around my arm, a standard greeting.

"Niss." I spoke quietly, lowering my voice so as to sound male. The name, obviously not my own, was from an old children's tale that suddenly made its way into my mind. This seemed to satisfy Javeed and he released my arm to pat his horse on the shoulder.

"This is Dorri. She and I have been together for close to 5 years now. She is the offspring of my old horse and she has never done me wrong, have you girl?" I smiled under my mask and told him that she was beautiful.

"She shares a name with a star, does she not?" Came a rider to my right. I turned to regard him and noticed that it was one of the two riders who rode the blue roans. He was the one closest to me and he wore is dark brown hair curly and long. Jarrod answered the affirmative and patted Dorri again. The rider turned and punched his fellow on the shoulder. "Did I not say that?"

"Yes you did, Piruz." Said the man, rubbing his arm where he was struck. This rider wore his hair short and the locks were straight and black. He nodded to me and Javeed and ruffled his own mount's mane.

"I'm Kia and this is Emad. He has been my partner since I was seven."

"And, as Kia said, I'm Piruz." Exclaimed the first of the two. "And my four legged friend here is Sepehr. They are brothers." He explained by darting a finger between the two horses. He told us that they were born a 2 years apart, as he and Kia were. The horses' mother was the offspring of one of the Warlord's own herd and was blessed with speed and endurance. I found myself so absorbed in the conversation that I almost lost my balance as Sorx began cantering without my command. I noticed that all around us, the other horses had picked up their pace and we were once again moving with haste through the canyon.

I looked to my brother and he was now hunched slightly over in his saddle, as if urge his horse faster. I grew worried and did the same, as did Javeed and the other two. We were now galloping headlong through the canyon and I saw some of the wargs flying back towards us, kicking up large clouds of dust. They passed us within seconds and soon I lost sight of them. I turned to glance behind, to spot any danger and found none. Above us, however, a large flock of black birds were starting to call and warble as they flew overhead. I didn't spare a thought on them and rode on, loosening my reins to give Sorx his head. Only two Orcs remained ahead of us: the leader and the Orc on the black warg, who I still felt curious about. They pushed their mounts onwards, snarling and spurring them as we followed.

The sun had long since left its high throne in the sky and was giving way to the dark purple of the early evening when we finally stopped the headlong run. I was sure I was going to drop from the saddle from exhaustion if we continued on any further. Even my brother now seemed drawn and tired as he rode in front of us. We slowed our horses to a walk once more and I nearly sighed in relief as I finally relaxed my muscles. I looked at Javeed and noticed immediately that his eyes were drifting shut as if he meant to sleep upright in the saddle. Kira and Piruz were yawning, as well, and their horses' heads were low to the ground in their own apparent exhaustion.

My eyes were starting to slip closed, as well, when a horse's whinny made me sit bolt upright. Looking for the horse in question, I instead noticed that a warg was passing us on the left, its rider staring at us from under his heavy brows. He was one of the riders, I noticed, that had ridden off with haste earlier that day and I now was aware of the blood that was spattered on his armor and on the warg's mouth. I grew wary and I reined Sorx's head up to rouse him. On our right, the last two wargs and their riders appeared, trotting casually and panting. They, too, were covered in blood, though none of it seemed to be theirs. I clucked my tongue and my horse began to jog forward, as well. The Orc riders glanced at me, but deemed me unworthy of their thought and quickly looked away.

I moved through the group, noting the sleepy gazes of the men, until I rode once more beside Sufyan. The tall man spared a moment to observe my face before he turned his eyes to the road ahead.

"Speak." His voice was unfeeling, as if he was speaking to a regular grunt and not his sister. It stung, but I understood the reason for the tone. I swallowed and leaned forward to speak in hushed tones.

"Why did the Orcs ride off in such a rush, Great Tiger?" I asked, using his title so as to appear formal in my speech. "And, then they return looking as if they had a tussle of some sort." Sufyan now turned to regard me, his mouth set deep in a frown.

"Do you recall those birds? The flock of black winged spies, more like. They told the Orc leader, Gaduhend, that there were scouts on the ridge, there." He pointed vaguely at the rim of the canyon. "In turn, the Orcs ran off to stop them before they could report back to the White City of our movements."

"Oh." Was all I could manage, feeling sheepish at my worry.

"Was that all, rider?" My brother spoke again. I bowed my head, mumbling out a short "Yes, my Tiger" before drifting slowly back into place beside Javeed and the others. By now, I was incredibly sleepy and, acting on this heavy feeling, I shut my eyes and let the gentle rocking of my horse's gait lull me to sleep.

* * *

I awoke early the next morning and when I did, I was leaning partially off the saddle. When I had finally managed to blink away the blurriness in my eyes, the sky that I could see was as blue as sapphires. Javeed was holding my reins and when he noticed me rousing from sleep, he handed them back, nodding to me in silent understanding. I thanked him quietly, keeping my voice low.

I stretched my hands above my head, leaving my reins on Sorx's neck. I knew he wouldn't take off while they rested there. Smiling, I leaned back down and ran a hand over his rump to praise him and looked about to get my bearings. We still rode in the canyon, if the rocks and cliffs that rose up on either side were any inclination, and the Orc pack was now reformed at the front. I looked up, noting that some stars were still in the sky as it began to lighten. I dropped my gaze, looking instantly to where my brother was.

Sufyan rode ahead, still sitting noble and strong in the saddle, but now his head was tilted to the side and he conversed with a man who rode close on his right. The man sat astride a dark bay stallion and his saddle was as heavily draped in red as my brother's was. The man himself was wearing a brown cloak over a red tunic and leggings and a dark crimson cloth was wrapped about his head and face. From what I could see, the man wore a large gold ring that bore a ruby in the middle. It glowed as it caught what little light there was and I wondered who this man was to have possession of such an item.

In the end, I gave in to the curiosity and I urged Sorx forward a bit so I could hear what they were saying. The riders around me parted to let me pass, as if they also wanted to know and were letting me be the one to snoop. Once I rode three lengths behind my brother, I dropped my head and strained my ears to listen. The stranger's voice was soft as silk, but gravelly like stones being dragged over one another.

"Are you sure it is wise to take this road, Great Tiger?" Spoke the man with the ring, "I mean, are you not worried about the Men of the North ambushing your riders?"

"The Orcs have told us that the Men of the White City know well of this road, but are stretched too thin to do too much unless they have sufficient proof of our presence. The Orcs have already dealt with a small troop of scouts not too long ago."

"But, my lord, surely you don't believe the word of Orcs? Wouldn't you feel safer riding a path that the Warlords have deemed safe?"

"Hold your tongue," Sufyan's voice was a hiss, "And do not presume to question me! I was put in charge of this vanguard and I shall direct them as I see fit. Now, away with you and let your master know he will hear from me in due time. Go!" With that, the man scowled and wheeled his horse sharply to bolt back the way we had come.

I wondered for a long while who the man was and why my brother was choosing this path, but I knew better than to bring it up. The ride was taking its toll on all of us and Sufyan was famous for his temper, however long the fuse was. I returned to my place near to Javeed, feeling that he, Kira and Piruz were the closest thing to friends I was going to have on this journey. The older man was singing quietly now and he nodded to me.

"You know of the Ode of Yakh, Niss?" I shook my head. "It is a short thing, so allow me regale you with a telling." The man cleared his throat and started singing in a low tone.

'_O days have come and days have gone/ Only once in our lives may we swallow the Sun.'_

_ 'Our wings may not be made of gold/ But shine we will as in the tales of old.'_

_ 'Men of the desert, we are and will be/ Blessed be our swords and bold be our dreams.'_

_ 'Strong backs and hands are all that we know/ Fleet feet and sound souls are all that we sow.'_

_ 'We triumph through fire and never are burned/ Many of life's great lessons we've learned.'_

_ 'Now we raise our voices, one and all/ Never in weakness shall our people fall.'_

_ 'O days will come as days have gone/ And only once in our lives do we swallow the Sun.'_

Once he finished, I noticed that my eyes had filled with tears. I wiped them away and nodded to him and only then did I notice that all the riders around us were watching silently. The words still echoing in my head, I leaned forward to pet Sorx's mane. The black strands were full of dust and I stroked them away, thinking about what those words meant. Golden wings and swallowing the sun seemed something out of a mad man's thoughts, but they resonated with me somehow and I held on to it, feeling peaceful.

To my right, Piruz was starting to sing, as well, but his song was more of a poem to the drink and food of our people. The riders who could hear him laughed at his words as he spoke longingly of mead basted boar and the sweet fluffy bread that was dipped in the oil of olives. His song made my stomach growl as I too shared in a giggle.

Minutes later, the white orb of the sun finally taking its place among the clouds, we rode out of the canyon. I breathed the warm air deeply, not missing the closeness of it in the canyon. The road before us, from what I could see, was long and ran straight through a craggy land. I could now see the sparkling of water in the distance and knew that this was what the Orcs spoke of. That didn't look to be such a long ride, but I would trust my horse, not my eyes, on this particular matter.

The horses around us seemed to enjoy the open air, as well, and some of them crohopped to expel their cooped up energy and it jostled their riders. Sorx dipped his head towards Dorri and tried to sniff noses with her, but the long legged chesnut mare wouldn't have it and even went so far as to step away from him. I rubbed my horse's neck to comfort his mock hurt and Javeed shook his head at me, the action full of mirth.

"Oh, the sun feels wonderful, doesn't it, Kia?" Piruz spoke loudly to my right, turning to his friend. The calm rider was smiling slightly and had his face turned to the sky.

"Ah, it does, my friend. As suburb as rare wine."

"Or fine as a soft lady, no? Dark and smooth as cocoa butter and tasting of it, too." All the nearby riders laughed again at the man's words. Javeed chortled and spoke up as well.

"Aye, even though the sun is hot, it is better than the stagnant heat in the canyon. I vow never to ride through another one again! I shall find an alternate route on the way back."

"I second that thought!" Came another rider, a young man astride a stocky white horse. Others around him voiced the same and I internally agreed, but I secretly prayed that we would be returning at all.

At the head of the group, my brother looked back, bracing a hand on Vidatu's hindquarters to balance. I nodded to him and he returned the gesture, sweeping back his cloak to the paws of the tiger rested on his chest and on Vidatu's back. He turned the large black horse around and spoke, then, to the group and everyone quieted to listen.

"My friends, we are only half a day's ride away from the river. This has been a rough ride so far, but it is almost over and I promise you that once we reach the banks, there will be rest and food. Onwards, now!" With that he spurred his horse, sharply turned and begun to canter. We followed suit, tapping the sides of our mounts and soon we were covering ground in an encompassing cloud of dust. The warg pack had seperated during the short speech and now they rode on either side of us, with the green skinned leader, Gaduhend, in front of my brother. I was unsure of the reason behind such a formation, but I thought there must be a good one.

The ground we rode upon was much flatter than in the desert we left behind and I started to ache for a full out run. It was perfect for a race, with no holes, large rocks or any kind of obstacle in sight. I nearly turned my horse out of the group to run ahead, but I fought the urge and remained in place. I could see a similar look of want on Piruz's face and I saw his hands twitch on his horse's reins.

The land we rode through passed by in a blur of grays and browns and I found myself thinking back to my family. Surely, they would have noticed my absence by now and I could only imagine what my mother and father would be feeling. Fear, worry, sorrow, maybe even anger or betrayal would be the initial feelings. Acceptance from my father in the end and downright denial from my mother until she heard otherwise. I felt badly for leaving without saying goodbye or telling them where I had gone. I told myself, though, that they probably assumed I had gone with Sufyan and knew that my big brother would protect me.

By this time, our ride had brought the river so close that I could almost smell it. The Orcs, staying in their surrounding formation, called out in Common for us to pick up the pace. We did as they commanded, moving into a gallop. Excited to finally be near to a resting point, the group began to crow and call at one another. There were challenges for races and bets on who was going to drink the most around the fires once we set up. I myself couldn't help but smile broadly as I looked forward to being able to speak with my brother.

Javeed was leaning over Dorri's neck now, grinning as largely as I was. Even the Orcs seemed to be jesting with one another in their perverse tongue, occasionally bumping against the closest warg and causing them to bite at the each others' ears. This continued, the Orcs and Men acting almost like children, until we came finally came upon the banks of river.

The ground had become slightly softer here and little green weeds grew up along the water, blowing gently in the breeze. The water shone in the sunlight and it only rippled slightly as it moved along on its way. The sound of the tiny waves lapping against the shore was soothing even as the sound of our horses' hooves nearly drowned it out.

We hauled to a stop, the horses snorting and tossing their heads and the men began patting one another on the shoulder. Javeed blew out a breath loudly and cracked his neck, which seemed to relax him almost instantly.

"I haven't ridden that kind of distance in a long while. I fear I am getting too old for this kind of thing." With that, he rolled his shoulders and rocked back in his saddle. I stretched my own muscles, standing in my stirrups to work out my legs and lower back. It was almost painful as the tightness began to fade. I hadn't thought about the repercussions of sitting in the same position for so long and now I was paying for it. It was almost humorous.

The group was all doing the same now, yawning and flexing their hands to shake away the ache and stiffness. Some of the horses were now bending their heads down to their legs and were rubbing their muzzles on their knees. They groaned as they did so and afterwards they shook themselves, manes throwing bits of dust around them. Still others were sneezing and coughing slightly as their wind began to return to them. My own horse was tugging at the reins, bobbing his head towards the water as if to say 'let's go for a swim'.

I was so relieved at the concept of rest that I almost cried, but before I could express any kind of joy or happiness my brother spoke loudly to us, his first real order of his new seat in our little army.

"Men, set up!"

* * *

**Whew, and there you have it. Another chapter. This one was rather hard for me and I hope it came out well enough. It felt very slow, but I'm not the best judge of that. Review and lt me know, my chickadees! Thanks again for reading!**

**Translations-**

** Kal zanalt. Marr dyri.- Orcish- Horses are loud. Stupid animals.**

** Nar thos- Orcish- No sack (an insult)**


End file.
